


you're the color i'll never know

by faexsolis



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Hurt, a journey through lipsoul's relationship, anyways this is just practice so yeah sorry if it sucks lmao, but no actual smut, literally what is the plot even, sort of a collection of jungeun's streams of consciousness, this may or may not be entirely incomprehensible idk, why does lip always have to be the alcoholic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:55:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29228076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faexsolis/pseuds/faexsolis
Summary: Jungeun should have known from the beginning that she and Jinsoul just weren’t meant to be.
Relationships: Jung Jinsol | Jinsoul/Kim Jungeun | Kim Lip
Comments: 10
Kudos: 33





	you're the color i'll never know

**Author's Note:**

> based off suho's [o2](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Ydjda6SBlQ)

_Breaking black waves_

_검은 파도가 부서지는_

_Cold and deep_

_춥고 깊은 곳_

_In the empty inside_

_텅 빈 속 안에_

-

Jungeun gazes out at the expanse of sea before her, reflecting the darkened sky. Smooth as a sheet, mirror-black, entirely opaque - it’s all-consuming, all-encompassing, all of anything and everything she’s ever felt. A vortex of her own dreaded emotions, the ones she’s been harboring for so long - the ones she’s been trying to rid herself of from the very beginning.

_It’s too late,_ the gray granules surrounding her seem to whisper. They’re everywhere, filling the folds of her loose white shift, grating against her palms, embedding themselves into her nail beds. She presses her screaming palms against the uneven surface, lowering herself onto her back, ignoring the pinpricks of pain emanating from her decimated hands.

It’s all just to feel something, anyway.

Jungeun gazes up at the sky, forlorn and thunder-torn, the precipitation coming down in light swathes. She allows her eyes to flutter shut, desperately waiting for the burning in her sinuses to quell, as the first snowflakes of the season settle in her hair. Soft kisses on her cheeks, brutal against her open palms.

She should be with Jinsoul, ruthlessly tearing apart a cheesy Hallmark movie in their apartment back in Seoul as the girl laughs at her, telling her that she’s being too hard on the screenwriters. And when they fall asleep together, hopelessly entangled in each other’s limbs, not knowing where one starts and the other ends, Jungeun is supposed to finally feel that sense of domesticity, supposed to finally resolve her desperate yearning for _more._

Because on New Year’s Eve, she’s meant to finally confess, to finally kiss Jinsoul while they’re equally drunk on both champagne and the holiday spirit. She's meant to finally ask her if they can be something more than just friends. 

Friends with benefits, at least.

Instead, she’s at the summer house in Busan, at least five hours away from the dreaded New Year’s party, withering away at the rocky beach attached to the house. It’s too much for her, the thoughts swirling up in her mind - not at all like the blackened waves pleasantly lapping at her feet.

She wishes it would all just go away.

-

_This is where time has stopped_

_이곳은 시간이 멈춰버린_

_A sand castle that will soon collapse_

_곧 무너질 모래성_

_My endless blue_

-

They had been that of ice and fire, the inevitable push and pull of a relationship purely of passion. But Jungeun loved it - every time she’d wake up in Jinsoul’s arms, every time she’d convince Jinsoul to stay for breakfast. Every time they’d allowed themselves to laugh, to bask in each other’s comforting presence. It had meant _everything_ to Jungeun.

It had brought her out of her shell. Healed her brokenness. Jungeun had barely escaped her own swirling abyss of remorse - she’d spent far too much time wallowing in her misgivings with her ex, with her own insecurities, her perceived shortcomings. Every possible reason why her ex would suddenly leave her in the middle of the night with nary a phone call or a text.

She’d drowned her sorrows in alcohol and the warmth of strangers, never remembering names or faces and always, _always_ leaving the next morning before she could familiarize herself with the person tucked beside her in the motel sheets. 

Before she could get attached.

But Jinsoul was a breath of fresh air - she’d been so much more than any of her other hookups had been. Her easy banter, her cutting sense of humor, her almost nihilistic approach to life - she had just _clicked_ with Jungeun in a way she’d never had the opportunity to click with before.

Their relationship had been far from idyllic, yet Jinsoul had brought Jungeun the sort of unspoken comfort she’d so desperately sought out. The kind of comfort she had _needed,_ at least in order to free herself of everything constantly plaguing her. To finally move past her bitter disappointment at her list of failed relationships.

They’d formed a bond that had run deeper than anything Jungeun had allowed herself to achieve with any individual - and she’d loved every moment of it. Every second they’d shared had been imbued with a certain charged energy, a sort of electricity that had kept them together for hours. For days - for months, really. They'd been together for six months - unofficially been together, that is - and Jungeun was ready to end it.

Or to make things official, at least.

But she should have known from the beginning that given the nature of their dynamic, it wouldn’t have ever amounted to anything. That the whirlwind of serotonin would only leave her gasping for air - yet, she craved that breathlessness more than anything in the world. 

She’d been so pliant for Jinsoul, so readily giving in a relationship where the other could only take. In a relationship where they’d clearly set boundaries - for themselves, and for the sake of their mutual friends. So that when this break would inevitably happen, no one would get hurt.

Jungeun wants to laugh. She’d been so naive.

She had so desperately clung to the idea of being something more, of their shared secrets and late-night conversations blossoming into something tangible, a feeling deeper than that of just their stolen kisses. Of just their exploration - or their experimentation, as Jinsoul had called it.

Jungeun should have known that in a society where breaking the norm inevitably results in heartbreak, it was only a matter of time. That every moment she spent lying awake in the early hours of the day, simply watching the gentle rise and fall of Jinsoul’s chest as she slept - every time she’d glanced over at Jinsoul curled up in her bed, wearing nothing but one of Jungeun’s oversized T-shirts, and pretended that what they had was real - was in vain.

Because at the end of the day, Jinsoul had never been in it for a relationship. It was Jungeun’s own fault for burying it deep inside of her, for allowing herself to be so greedy with the time she’d spent with Jinsoul.

Time had been so fleeting - it had escaped quicker than the ever-elusive streams of consciousness they’d shared. What had initially fueled Jungeun, had allowed her to open up, to eclipse, only ended up destroying her.

It had broken her - it _has_ broken her.

She's broken.

-

_Memories that fade more every day_

_매일 더 흐려지는 기억_

_Song to end_

_끝나야 할 노래_

_Tell me all of you_

_말해줘 네 모든 걸_

-

Her breathing evening out to match the murmur of the sea, Jungeun loosens her grasp on reality enough to realize that she’s never truly known Jinsoul the way she’s claimed to have known her. Their relationship had been confined to clandestinity, to surreptitious touches, to relative freedom only in the darkness of their bedrooms. 

To the whisperings of the night, tracing patterns into each other’s skin, as the clock ticked by. To the sleep-drunk - and quite literally drunk; they’d always shared one bottle too many - conversations they’d held, to the way they’d only ever needed to speak with their bodies.

All the times they’d gone drinking at one in the morning, only to wake up late in the afternoon, hopelessly entangled in each other. The countless times they’d let themselves overstep each other’s boundaries.

Really, Jungeun thinks, it had started with their first drunken hookup. Jungeun hadn’t left the motel room that morning - she’d allowed herself to indulge in a final conversation with Jinsoul before heading off. Except that conversation had lasted three hours, and they’d both exchanged numbers afterward.

And then it happened again. And again, and again, until they’d forgone motel rooms for the comfort of their own homes, until they’d stopped being drunk whilst it was all happening.

Until Jungeun had found herself instinctively reaching for Jinsoul’s hand as they ran through a heavy downpour, cursing herself for lacking the basic foresight to grab an umbrella. To her surprise, Jinsoul easily allowed their hands to slot together as they ducked under the safety of a bus stand, laughing at their predicament as they gazed out into the street, and Jungeun made the mistake of glancing over at Jinsoul.

Despite the rivulets of water plastering her hair to her face and the uncomfortable dampness of her soaked shirt sticking to her skin, Jinsoul had been radiant. A sort of childlike wonder had lit up her features as she swung their clasped hands back and forth, just staring out into the landscape before them, awash in blue.

“Beautiful.” The word had slipped out of Jungeun’s mouth entirely unbeknownst to her, easily breaking the silence that had befallen between them, and Jungeun’s heart had leaped to her throat. Jinsoul’s eyes remained fixated on the scenery, but a simple flick of her chin indicated that she’d more than heard Jungeun’s inadvertent expression.

A beat of silence passed between them; still as the mundane street before them, yet charged with meaning. Meaning that Jungeun didn’t want to interpret - that she didn’t want to _acknowledge,_ because if she acknowledged it, then it would be true.

And there was no way she could handle _that._

“I wouldn’t call it _beautiful,"_ Jinsoul had finally concluded, reeling Jungeun back into reality as she turned to face her. “Street’s hardly calendar-worthy.”

“I don’t know.” Jungeun refused to shy away from Jinsoul’s gaze, attempting to keep her tone even. “Just felt right in the moment. To say it, I mean. Rain’s pretty. The setting’s pretty.”

Jinsoul simply regarded Jungeun, the corners of her lips quirking up. “Yeah?”

Jungeun opted to nod in response, not trusting herself to speak, and Jinsoul giggled, grabbing Jungeun by the wrist. A weak protest formed on her lips, but she could hardly find it within herself to voice it as Jinsoul pulled her toward her place. As Jinsoul offered her a meal and a hot shower - and so much more.

Perhaps that’s when Jungeun truly realized that it was no longer experimentation. That whatever she and Jinsoul had - the laughter, the banter, even their exploration - was so much more than whatever they’d been labeling it. 

Or rather, what they _hadn’t_ been labeling it - Jinsoul insisted that what they had was nothing more experimentation, and Jungeun couldn’t find it in herself to disagree. Yet despite their ambiguity - their failure to define what they were - Jinsoul was still _hers._ Well - not officially, of course, but Jungeun had _thought-_

It didn’t matter what she’d thought, Jungeun realizes with a sickening start. Her own twisted perception of what they meant didn’t matter - _doesn’t_ matter. Not as long as Jinsoul is so firmly set on breaking her heart.

That’s what hurts the most - Jinsoul had known Jungeun in and out, but Jungeun can’t say that she’s reciprocated that, not at all. She thought she knew Jinsoul, she really did, but she must have read all the wrong signs.

Or perhaps it was her own idealism, her own desire for a relationship. Her own _delusion_ that had made her see things that weren’t there. Feel things that didn't exist.

She’d always been proud of her analytical nature, - of seeing past what was given - but perhaps it became her hamartia.

Perhaps it’s why she’s so lost now.

-

_If you want me_

_날 원한다면_

_Take it away_

_어서 데려가 줘_

_Make my feet touch the ground_

_내 발이 땅에 닿게_

-

Laughter, pure and unbridled. _Freedom._

All things Jungeun hasn't felt in forever - or, at least, since that night.

It had been sultry and humid, abuzz with the promise of something Jungeun had never felt before. Jinsoul had been reclining against Jungeun’s upholstered chair - thrifted from the lady down the street from where she used to live - as laughter spilled from her mouth, loud and unrestrained. Jungeun had smiled back, almost nervously, curious as to just what had been so amusing.

Jinsoul placed a wavering hand on the chair, hoisting herself up, as she stumbled her way toward Jungeun. She’d fallen into Jungeun’s arms, mumbling about her life being a joke, yet Jungeun had pushed her back. Told her that it was okay. That they were friends, too - they could forgo their plans for this; they could talk about it.

Friends, Jinsoul had repeated, tears glittering in her eyes. They were _friends._

Fear tugged at Jungeun’s heart - anxiety that Jinsoul would leave her, that she’d stalk out of the apartment once she realized the underlying meaning of Jungeun’s words.

But Jinsoul hadn't noticed - instead, she pulled Jungeun in for a kiss. Soft but fleeting, edged with steel. Just like Jinsoul herself.

Jungeun should have stopped them there. Should have taken away Jinsoul’s liquid courage, should have forced Jinsoul to see what they were. What they had become.

Jungeun should have confessed right then and there, before everything she’d ever known had crumbled around her.

If only she could turn back the fleeting hands of time.

-

_Breathe_

_숨을 불어 넣어줘_

_Come back to life_

_다시 떠오르게_

_Show me all of you_

_보여줘 네 모든 걸_

-

Jungeun had been Icarus, flying on the wings of paper that Jinsoul had so unwittingly bestowed upon her. On the euphoric rush of hiding their existence in plain sight, on the fiery passion that kept them together.

The fire that kindled the last of Jungeun’s hope had burned right through it, had left her crashing through the relentless ebb and flow of inevitable heartbreak. Losing herself between could-have-beens and would-have-beens, tearing through every moment they’d ever shared before Jinsoul had abandoned her. 

Left her using soju as her crutch, becoming like Jinsoul herself - rough, temperamental, and painfully aware of her reality.

Lying here, surrounded by constant reminders of everything she’s done, Jungeun is too aware, too sober. Too lost her in her own misery.

Jungeun aches for another bottle - another chance. Another night, another opportunity to tell Jinsoul everything. Another reason for Jinsoul to stay. 

The emotions weigh heavily upon her as she gazes up into the brewing, storm-blackened sky, undeterred by the frigidity of the night. The cold helps, she decides, it _numbs._

Or, at least, it’s supposed to. But not even the bluster of the night can stop Jungeun’s raging emotions and rapidly-spiraling streams of consciousness.

Jungeun can do nothing but allow herself to be swept away by her tempest of thought.

-

_Hold me close, kiss me hard_

_Show me where you wanna go_

-

She and Jinsoul had been nothing short of thunder and lightning, Jungeun muses. Dancing around each other in the eye of a storm, with no imaginable end other than the worst. They’d slotted together so perfectly, fit like pieces of broken _kintsugi_ pottery. Late-night conversations, soju bombs, even the time they'd spent exploring each other - the gold veining their relationship.

It was unspoken, the way Jinsoul knew how to exhilarate Jungeun in all the right ways, the way she’d so easily had Jungeun wrapped around her little finger. The way the sparkle in her eye always managed to enrapture Jungeun, the way her fleeting comments had ingrained themselves in Jungeun’s head - and in her heart.

Jungeun had so foolishly taken Jinsoul’s drunken utterances so seriously - from the derision oozing from her tone as she drunkenly babbled on about her ex to the comfort Jinsoul had taken in Jungeun, everything had been in earnest. Jungeun herself had been recovering from her own bout of heartbreak, yet she found herself so inexplicably entranced by Jinsoul’s smooth tenor speech, by her inexplicable way of making everything so much easier, so much more _comfortable._

She'd come to love Jinsoul for her spontaneity, for always living in the moment - for forgetting about tomorrow. For allowing Jungeun to let go of her own incorrigibly perfectionistic tendencies, and to loosen up, to _breathe._ Jinsoul had been Jungeun’s breath of fresh air amongst the responsibilities suffocating her, if only for a moment.

It _was_ only for a moment.

Miserable laughter bubbles up in Jungeun’s chest as the sheet of white around her thickens, each falling flake a reminder of her own foolishness. She’d allowed herself to fall in love - the one thing she’d promised herself never to do again.

But she doesn’t regret it. The conversations, the soju, the nights spent reveling in each other. Not even the _experimentation_ \- no matter how much it hurt after Jinsoul had gotten back together with her ex, Jungeun has no regrets.

Because despite what the girl claims, Jungeun knows Jinsoul is cognizant of what they had. Of what they have.

Jungeun knows that Jinsoul will never acknowledge it, but it’s enough for her.

-

  
  


_Come to me_

_어서 내게 와줘_

_With eternal excitement_

_영원한 설렘으로_

_Even in a dream_

_꿈결에서도_

-

They had been so achingly beautiful, Jungeun thinks, as the gently falling snowflakes speckle her glasses. So capricious in nature, yet so unforgivably steadfast. _Suffocating._

She's drowning, her lungs filling with a relentless torrent of agony. It’s almost as if the sand surrounding her is pouring into her chest, filling it to the brim with all of her intrusive thoughts and painful reminiscence. 

But as she draws in one ragged breath after the other, she’s numbed to the pain; she allows her eyes to flutter shut once again, for serenity to fill her being, and stops thinking altogether. 

Jungeun gifts the weight of her limbs to her bed of sand, her worries to the sea, her agony to the thunderous sky. She's floating, suspended in the darkness enveloping her.

She’s finally letting go.

-

_Unable to draw_

_그릴 수가 없는_

_You're the color I'll never know_

**Author's Note:**

> yeah lol sorry if this comes across as idk tortured emo 12-year-old, i've been trying to explore different writing styles lmao
> 
> anyways tysm for reading, feel free to hmu in the comments or on my [tumblr](https://faexsolis.tumblr.com/)/[twitter](https://twitter.com/faexsolis)


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